


The Accidental Intruder

by ArgentLives



Series: Across Every Universe (You are Home) [13]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 07:17:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4867997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentLives/pseuds/ArgentLives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She hastily pulled the sheets up to cover her exposed chest as he averted his gaze, abashed and embarrassed, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing the heels of his palms against them as though expecting the sight before him to disappear any second. Which it didn’t, because when he opened his eyes again a moment later Iris was still frozen to the very same spot in mortification. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, seemingly at a loss for words, until he finally managed to find his voice.</p><p>“Well—uh, wow, this is awkward,” he blurted, “but is there a reason why you’re, uh, naked…in my bed?”</p><p> </p><p>[Seriously, Iris, how do you even get herself into these sorts of situations?]</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Accidental Intruder

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt(s): “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” and “Well this is awkward…”

As she reached out, preparing to fish through the cluttered mess of her purse to search for her keys, the door knob turned unexpectedly under the pressure from her hand. With a brief flicker of confusion, she stopped rooting through her bag to turn it all the way, pushing the door open and stumbling into her apartment with eyes half-shut in exhaustion. She didn’t remember leaving the door open—in fact she never really left it unlocked, because growing up as a cop’s daughter she’d practically had it drilled into her head to always remember to lock up before leaving the house unattended.

The thought troubled her for a solid half-a-second before the concern fell flat, her mind too tired, her body too heavy with exhaustion to focus on anything for long. All she could really think of was her bed and being in it, as soon as possible, because it was  _late_. Far too late, really, to just be getting home, kicking off her boots and shutting the door to her apartment quietly behind her, not even bothering to turn on the lights. Her eyelids were droopy and her vision blurry from fatigue, so it didn’t really matter that she couldn’t see, anyway.

God, she thought, shrugging out of her coat and tossing it carelessly to the floor along with her purse, she was far too good of a person. Putting in a full day’s worth of work in at CCPN, finally finishing up her latest article on the recent spike and even more recent drop in crime in Central City and all the reasons behind that—strangely-powered people and the Flash included—, only to receive a text from her former co-worker Beth on her way out the door.

 _“I know you’re on to bigger and better things, West,”_ the message had read, _“and that you’re some big-shot reporter now, but I also know that you still have a key to Jitters, and that Terry likes you enough that she says you’re welcome back whenever. I know you don’t exactly need the extra hours, but could you do me a huuuuuge favor? My sister is in the hospital, there was some accident. She’s okay, but still, I want to be there for her. Would you cover my closing shift for me? Pleaaaaase? I’d owe you big time. Like, free coffee for a week big time.”_

To her credit, Iris had kept her whining to Linda minimal, knowing there was no way she could say no and keep a clean conscience, before replying with a quick  _“fine. but only because i love u (and free coffee)”_  and then a follow-up _“hope your sister is okay <3_”. Which was how she ended up working all day at CCPN and then heading straight to Jitters right after to work the closing shift on a busy Friday night, subsequently locking up the place all on her own, and utterly exhausted.

She felt her way through the apartment, making a beeline towards her bedroom, her  _bed_ —her beautiful, wonderful bed, lumpy mattress and thin sheets and all—trailing her fingers absentmindedly along the walls. It was easy to slip out her clothes—thank the Lord for dresses—and she fumbled with the clasp of her bra for a few frustrating seconds before finally winning the battle, tossing it carelessly to the side and flopping down face-first on the bed. She laid there, unmoving, too tired to even make the effort to climb underneath the covers.

Come tomorrow morning, she knew she was totally going to regret not going through her usual nighttime ritual—taking off her makeup, brushing her teeth, washing her face, maybe taking a shower, wrapping her hair, the whole nine yards—but she was so goddamn exhausted that she couldn’t bring herself to care. Besides, tomorrow was her day off, so if she looked like hell in the morning—well. She probably wouldn’t even be leaving her apartment, save for karaoke night with Linda, and that wasn’t till later at night anyway. 

She let out a contented sigh, burying her face into the pillow and wiggling her toes, basking in the softness (wasn’t her mattress hard? huh) and snuggling into the warmth. It registered, somewhere in the back of her sleep addled brain, that there was something about her bed that felt…off, and curiously unfamiliar. She took a deep breath, and vaguely noted that the scent lingering on her pillow, although certainly not unpleasant, was unfamiliar too, but she let out the breath she’d been holding and before she could contemplate it any further, before her head even hit the pillow, she was already fast asleep.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t light filtering through her window or the sound of birds chirping or even the shrill scream of her alarm that woke her up like it normally would, but rather a loud crashing noise, followed by a string of angry curses, and in the few seconds it took for the grogginess to clear somewhat from her mind, she registered that it was still dark out and that it clearly wasn’t morning yet, along with one other thing—one other really, really terrifying thing. 

Someone here, someone breaking in,  _in her bedroom_.

She rolled over, any and all concerns about modesty swiftly abandoned, and scrambled over to the side of the bed, reaching underneath for the bat she kept there in case of—well, in case of this—except…it wasn’t there. Her fingers brushed against nothing but carpet and she blinked, sitting back up in confusion, really taking in the room before her for the first time since she’d gotten home and—it wasn’t…her room. She frantically looked down at the sheets she was sitting on, and—nope, definitely not her bed.

It was just as this unfortunate realization hit her that she met the stranger’s eyes—not the intruder’s, not anymore, because apparently, if this wasn’t her room, well,  _she_ was the intruder in this situation. He stumbled back and nearly fell into her— _his_ —dresser as he took notice of her presence, finally having recovered from his noisy entrance. He blinked at her in confusion and quiet amazement, and although it was too dark to make out his exact features, she could definitely see the pale skin of his face, lit up by the moonlight filtering through the open window he’d just crawled through, turning red at the sight of her, his gaze dipping lower for half-a-second and then hastily back up again, eyes wide and stunned speechless.

She hastily pulled the sheets up to cover her exposed chest as he averted his gaze, abashed and embarrassed, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing the heels of his palms against them as though expecting the sight before him to disappear any second. Which it didn’t, because when he opened his eyes again a moment later Iris was still frozen to the very same spot in mortification. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, seemingly at a loss for words, until he finally managed to find his voice.

“Well—uh, wow, this is awkward,” he blurted, “but is there a reason why you’re, uh, naked…in my bed?”

From the little that Iris could see, his face seemed to be getting redder by the second, although she noted with some relief that he wasn’t staring. In fact, he seemed to be doing his best to keep his gaze fixed on the floor, on the ceiling, to the side—anywhere but on her. Which was good, considering her current predicament, so…thank God for small wonders. Still, even without his eyes on her she felt incredibly embarrassed, wanting nothing more than to sink right through the bed, through the ground, through anything and everything as long as it was away from this room that wasn’t her own.

She was about to explain herself—except honestly, how could she explain herself, why she was there, what she was doing, how she got there, this was just…oh my God—when she noticed that his face wasn’t the only thing on him that was red. In fact, he was dressed in a head-to-toe red leather suit, with the cowl pushed back, and he—oh. Oh.  _Holy shit_ , she was in the Flash’s apartment. She scrambled over to the nightstand to flick on the light there, still clutching the sheet tight to her chest with one hand, instantly bathing the room in light.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, getting a better look at his face. She had always wondered why her next-door neighbor in this apartment complex was so secretive, so mysterious. She had assumed it must be something scandalous, or maybe something strange, had come up with every scenario under the sun—including, ironically, that he could be some criminal mastermind, living a life of crime by day and hiding out in his apartment by night, hardly ever seen—but this…this was something else. This was a lot. Her cute next-door neighbor, who she only ever exchanged hurried ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ with when they would happen to run into each other in the hallway, was the Flash. “You’re—you’re—”

Something in her tone must have finished the sentence for him even though she couldn’t actually get the words out herself, because his gaze snapped up to meet hers before following it downward to his current attire, his eyes going comically wide as the realization hit him, as though he hadn’t even realized he’d been wearing it.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, dropping his head into his gloved hands. He stayed like that for a moment, obviously horrified, before lifting his head and dragging a hand down his face, turning pleading eyes on her. “I was distracted, I forgot—I, uh—I didn’t—you weren’t—fuck. Please don’t tell anyone, please, I’m begging you, I—”

“Relax,” she said, holding up her free hand as a peace offering. Despite herself, and despite the lingering humiliation she felt at her situation, she found a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. His fumbling was sort of…endearing. And strangely enough, it put her at least a little bit more at ease. “I’m not really in any position to be, uh,  _exposing_  your identity to anyone. But—wow. Wow. I can’t believe you’re—actually, you know what, this just got, like, ten times more humiliating.”

He arched an eyebrow at her, and she hastened to explain.

“It’s just—not only am I completely naked in a stranger’s bed—”

“Completely?” he squeaked. If his eyes got any wider, Iris observed, she wouldn’t be surprised if they popped right out of his head. She gave him a withering look, and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Okay—sorry, sorry, go on.”

“Not  _completely_ , I’m wearing underwear, but that’s—not the point, okay, as I was  _saying_ —not only am I  _almost_ completely naked in a stranger’s bed, I’m naked in  _the Flash’s_  bed, a literal superhero, Central City’s pride and joy, and—”

“—and your next-door neighbor,” he finished for her. “Really, I’m just your next door neighbor. I’m just—well, I’m not that special.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes, “I doubt you’re  _‘just’_ anything. And I beg to differ on the whole ‘not special’ thing.” She paused, tilting her head and regarding him with curiosity. “I didn’t even think you’d recognize me. I mean, we’re neighbors, sure, but we’ve barely interacted, and we’ve never even been properly introduced. And you probably interact with, like, tons of people in this city when you’re zipping around saving everyone. I’m sure anyone’s face would be easy to forget, and—”

“No,” he cut her off, and the certainty in his voice surprised her, left her at a loss for words. He seemed to realize that she’d fallen silent, because he coughed awkwardly and gave her a nervous little smile before offering up an explanation. “I mean, your face is—it’s—um, it’s definitely not easy to forget, is what I’m trying to say. And I’m sorry that I never introduced myself when I moved in, I really wanted to, and I don’t want you to think I was being impolite, I just—I thought that with what I do, with the kind of life I have, it’d be smarter to keep to myself, you know? Outside of my friends that already know, of course, but I figured it’d be better if I could make a fresh start moving away from my old place, because I think they were starting to get suspicious, and…yeah.”

“Oh,” she blinked, a slow smile of her own spreading across her face, “well, thanks. But your secret’s safe with me. Which, now that I know, we should probably properly introduce ourselves and all. I’m Iris West.”

“Yeah, that’s true, uh, nice to meet you Iris. I’m Barry. Barry Allen.”

So the Flash’s name was Barry. She smiled to herself. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something about it was cute, just like pretty much everything about him. A brief silence fell between them as Iris got lost in thought, mind still working a mile-a-minute to process everything, before his voice broke through it again.

“So, we should—um, we should probably talk, because now you know about my…thing. Thing as in the whole secret identity and all! Um, also, uh, you’re still…” he trailed off, shuffling his feet awkwardly and gesturing vaguely to her, in his bed, and—oh. Right. She felt the heat rush to her face as she remembered why she was there, uninvited, in the first place.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. You’re right. We should talk, but first would you be so kind as to pass me my dress? It’s right—actually, you know what, I know it’s your apartment and all, but could you just give me like…a minute? To get dressed? I’ll be quick.”

“Sure thing, I’ll just—I’ll be in the living room. And by living room I mean the really small area outside this room with the couch and TV, basically just the room that’s not the kitchen, in case you were—okay, sorry, I’m leaving now.”

He turned on his heel and was out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him, in literally seconds, and it took Iris a moment to gather her bearings, to remember that he could do that, obviously, because he was the Flash. 

She counted to ten in her head, struggling to get a hold of herself, before swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She hastily snatched up her dress from the floor, taking a few moments to locate the bra she’d tossed aside. When she was finally fully clothed, she took a few calming breaths before emerging from the room, eyes sweeping the place and quickly locating Barry. He was sitting on an old, worn-out looking couch and staring blankly ahead at the TV, even though the screen was black and the thing obviously wasn’t on, and he was twiddling his thumbs nervously. She had the distinct feeling that he’d cleaned the place up in the minute it had taken her to get dressed, because there were things stuffed in and under places they clearly weren’t supposed to be, and no young twenty-something-year-old’s apartment looked as clean as this–clean enough where could actually  _see_  the floor. Hell, hers certainly didn’t.

She cleared her throat to announce her presence, and covered her mouth with a hand when he jumped, startled out of his daze at the sudden noise, to hide her laugh. He gave her an awkward smile and gestured to the couch for her to sit, hastily pushing himself off of it and standing up in the process. This time, she noticed with a hint of gratification, he was doing a really poor job at concealing his staring. Now that she wasn’t so exposed, and now that she was being just as open and obvious with her appraisal of him as he was being with her, it was sort of flattering.

“Uh, you can sit here, and I’ll just—I’ll stand, if it makes you more comfortable, I know it’s a small couch and I don’t want to—”

“Barry, it’s fine,” she giggled, taking a seat and patting the spot next to her. “Sit down, please.”

He hesitated for a moment before sitting down next to her, and she noted with some amusement that he wasn’t kidding—it really was a small couch. Their legs were nearly touching, knees almost knocking together, and although he seemed to be pushing himself as far into the corner of it as possible, she could tell that he felt it too. Something strange, but not unpleasant, passing between them. Almost like a shock, a spark of electricity that made her skin feel all hot and tingly.

Another deep breath, and then she was talking, asking question after question as they popped into her head, the nervous fluttery feeling in her stomach fading as full-on reporter mode took over. Barry, bless his soul, took it all in stride, answering where he could and trying his best to keep up with her—and really, once she got him talking, he seemed excited to talk about it, to share such a secret part of himself with someone else, someone new. She was a little surprised at how quickly he seemed to place his trust in her, but not at all disappointed. After all, she had a feeling about him, too, and she thought that that might have something to do with it. And then, as their conversation about particle accelerators and meta-humans and day jobs came to an end, it was her turn to talk. Which actually wasn’t nearly as hard or horrible as she expected it to be, all things considered.

She was just finishing up explaining how she ended up in his bed in the first place, how she’d been in a zombie-like state of exhaustion and had mistaken his apartment for hers, when something hit her.

“Wait—so, let me get this straight. I was able to walk right into your place, which means your door was unlocked,” she clarified, eyes narrowing, and Barry nodded his understanding. He’d seemed pretty sympathetic throughout her whole story, and it didn’t take much to recognize that he was the kind of person who’d probably had his fair share of embarrassing moments. He didn’t seem like the type to judge, anyway. “You’re telling me that you deal with dangerous criminals, not to mention all these extremely dangerous metahuman people with all these weird powers on a daily basis, and you left your freaking door unlocked? Really?”

He frowned at her accusatory tone, holding his hands up in defense. “Hey, I didn’t mean to! I was rushing out the door, there was an emergency, and I—”

“Relax, dude,” she laughed, relenting, before he could get himself worked up. “I’m just messing with you. Mostly. But it does bring me to my next question, which is…why were you climbing through the window to get into your place? Why not just go through the front door?”

He shrugged. “I always go through the window when I’m getting back late from Flash business and stuff, when I’m in the suit. Just in case, you know? I don’t want to attract any unwanted attention, or accidentally run into someone who might see me—or see something speeding into my apartment, at least, which would be just as much of a giveaway.”

Iris nodded. That made sense enough. Although, now that she thought about it, she had been woken up more than once in the past few weeks from some sort of racket outside, always at ungodly hours of the night and early morning, which now, looking back, had probably been from him ‘sneaking in’ to his own apartment. She’d have to remind him to try to be more subtle with that in the future—but for now, she let the matter drop. She had more pressing things on her mind.

“Got it. So…about getting to know each other…what do you say about meeting at Jitters tomorrow morning for coffee? I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of you, now that you don’t have to hide away in your apartment all the time. At least I better be. Trust me, I’m very persistent.”

“You will. I mean–I’d like that. And coffee sounds great,” he smiled, eyes lighting up in excitement. It was—well, it was adorable.

“Good,” she smirked. After all this night had put her through, things had actually turned out…really nice. Strange, definitely, and a little overwhelming, but nice. And amazingly enough, everything seemed to be working out in her favor and paying off in one way or another—including her exhaustion-induced accidental break-in, and even her extended work day. “Because it just so happens I have a friend that owes me free drinks for a week.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on my [tumblr](http://bisexualiriswest.tumblr.com/), as most of these prompt fills are.


End file.
